


Sunshine

by petrichoricarus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Banter, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin is a snarky enigma and it's great, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, If You're Reading This Send Help, Jedi, Love Me Some Helmet Action, Star Wars - Freeform, The Force, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, babyyoda, no really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichoricarus/pseuds/petrichoricarus
Summary: It's not always easy raising a child. Especially when said child has strange, unknown powers the crumbling Galactic Empire desperately wants to sink their claws into--regardless of if the child lives or dies. Not to mention the stoic and aggravating(ly attractive, but you didn't hear that from me) adoptive father that came along with the child in a package deal, who honestly could be a droid under all that armor for all I know. Except, what droid would have a voice that you could fall asleep to? Rough... Low... S--Ahem. That's just irresponsible droid design.Oh, and despite being a highly trained bounty hunter himself, he's got more blasters aiming for his head than stars in the galaxy. Mash all that stuff together and you've got a pretty good idea of what I'm dealing with. Life was never supposed to be this complicated. But it's better to be optimistic, right? Like a ray of sunshine...
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character
Kudos: 12





	1. The Girl Awakens

**Author's Note:**

> Where do I sign to get a bounty hunter to come after me? I'll pay handsomely
> 
> Side note: not sure if this is coming along well(first time writing hahaa) so any comments and/or kudos would be greatly appreciated! :)

If I’m being completely honest, I’m not exactly sure how I ended up here. 

It might have been the adrenaline talking, or maybe some strange, masochistic pang of curiosity. Screw curiosity. That cat didn’t deserve to die. Me? I had already learned early on in life that such impulsive urges were a luxury I couldn’t afford… 

Yet somehow... There I was. 

Stranded on a deteriorating ship in the middle of—well, nowhere  _ I’d _ ever been before. Stranded, but not alone. Stuck with a homicidal baby and a grumpy(but I would never risk saying that to his face, of course) man in shiny armor.

Maybe being alone in space would have been better. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about being shot or choked to death. Speaking of being choked to death… 

My eyes drift over from my “safe spot” on the floor of the ship to the tiny green creature responsible for half of my current fears, lounging carelessly in the co-pilot’s seat diagonal to me. It notices my stare and makes a bubbling noise in my direction. I frown, disturbed. ‘How can such a cute little thing be so… dangerous?’ 

Leaning my head against the wall behind me, I look between the baby and the ominous-looking figure in the pilot’s seat. ‘I guess it would make sense that danger attracts danger,’ I think. He doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to anyone on board, but I know for a fact he would take less than a second to incapacitate me if I did something he didn’t like. I grimace at the thought of another physical confrontation. ‘Let’s not think about that right now, Lyra.’ I try to wave off any nervous thoughts surfacing in my mind, and instead try to focus on recounting the events that led me here. Stuck. I sigh. 

  
  


* * *

You know how it goes. Earn money to live. Live to earn money. Eat. Fight off the occasional thief. Sleep. Repeat. Typical, am I right? 

It seems that society follows the same blueprint no matter where you go. 

Especially on Tatooine. What else did you expect from an Outer Rim junkyard? 

Lucky for me, I get paid for that stuff. If it’s junk you want, I’m your girl. Scrounging up scraps means I can earn enough to keep my stomach from complaining, but it also means on some days, I come home with nothing but bruises and cuts. 

The whole ordeal was made much easier with the help of the bright laser stick I had received from my mother before she passed away. It wasn’t anything special like a family heirloom, but it sure did come in handy when I needed to scare other scavengers off. Turns out, having a weapon that quite literally slices through anything can be a pretty big deterrent to most miscreants. It was also great for cutting up chunks of metal that were too big to handle otherwise.

The morning before my capture, I woke up feeling like shit. 

It might have been an instinctual foreshadowing, a desperate plea from my future self to  _ please, please, for the love of God, don’t be stupid and just mind your own business _ , which I promptly ignored. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, and the days before, I wasn’t able to secure my pay, so I needed to go out and find something, anything, or I would pass out from thirst and hunger. The suns were particularly scorching at that time, I remember. 

Really, recounting everything now, it seems like I was going out of my way to make my life miserable.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t long before I was able to find junk scattered across a slope. ‘It must have been a recent drop for no other scavengers to have picked it clean,’ I thought. 

Another warning sign. 

I gathered the materials and shoved them in the cloth bag I’d dragged with me. Before I could leave and buy myself much-needed food and water, however, I noticed more materials trailing up the incline. More materials equals more food. More water.  _ Stars above _ , I  _ really _ needed water. 

Ignoring the growing sense of discomfort in my chest, I trudged my way up the slope, collecting all the materials I could find. Wire here, a sheet of metal there. I was practically rich at this point. Drunk off the thoughts of filling my stomach for days, I reached the top of the slope… And stared. 

A lone ship. Seemingly abandoned. Wrecked. 

Another sign. Except to me back then, it wasn’t a sign of danger. It was a sign that I wasn’t going to have to fight my way through a cluttered mess of Jawas and junk for… At least another waning of the moons. 

My legs sprinted me over to the wreckage. The ramp to the ship was lowered. My excitement skyrocketed. Where to even begin? If I wanted to finish before the other scavengers knew what was going on, I had to choose carefully. I stepped onto the layered metal leading up to the ship, the soft echoes of my footsteps against the hard surface making me even giddier. 

At the entrance of the ship, I dropped my items. The ship’s interior was better than I could have ever imagined. It was filled with expensive-looking objects, things I had no idea about except for the fact that I knew they would sell for a shit ton of money. Admiring them carefully, I stopped short. They almost looked… New.  _ Beep! Beep! Idiot! Banthabrain! Danger! Something’s not right here! _ My apprehension quickly rose. It morphed into complete terror after I heard a clatter coming from farther inside the ship. 

I ducked behind one of the shallow dips in the wall, desperately trying to hide myself from the intruder. Well, technically,  _ I _ was the intruder, but fear doesn’t follow a moral code. I held still with bated breath. A shuffling noise came closer and closer to where I was standing. Then it stopped. I almost passed out. Turning my head slowly to the side, I saw…

Nothing. There was nothing there. 

My body sagged with relief against the wall I was trembling next to just a moment ago. What had I been so afraid of? It wasn’t like—

A loud ‘buh’ noise right next to me cut off any thoughts and had me screaming like a newborn child. Scrambling backwards and finding nothing but solid ship, I looked down at the source of the noise to find… A child. 

The scream died in my throat almost as soon as it began. What was it? I peered down at the little green creature, still somewhat disoriented by the sudden shift in my emotions. ‘Aww. What an adorable, precious little thing.’ I reached out tentatively to hold it up in front of my face. Its big, bright eyes blinked up at me slowly as it tilted its head. I tilted my head back. I had never seen anything like it before. 

Clearly, it was some sort of child. It wasn’t  _ my _ child. Who..? If anything, that should have been the last and most obvious warning sign. But by then, it was too late. 

I looked around, significantly more wary than before, and headed deeper into the ship. “Baby, you don’t happen to know where your… Parents are, do you?” The baby ‘buh’ed at me again. I sighed. 

After snooping carefully around the ship for a while, I was able to find a hovering metal case that seemed to be a crib for the baby. Setting the baby down and patting its small head, I turned to go scavenge for more materials before anyone unexpected decided to grace me with their presence like Baby Bright-Eyes had a moment ago. But the moment I set Baby down, it blinked at me once before quickly reaching out of its crib to press a button that promptly closed the crib’s metal walls over its head. 

“Rude,” I gasped at the metal container. “I even patted your head.”

Shaking off how the baby had very clearly insulted me, I headed back to the pile of stuff I was collecting. Grabbing the laser that I had stored in my bag and shoving it in one of my pockets, I continued to try and scrounge up some things to sell later to the scrap merchant in town. 

I only had a short moment to myself before my worst fear came true. Someone treads up the ramp into the ship. Judging from their footsteps, it seemed like the person wasn’t the owner of the ship. From a dark corner of the ship, I watched an armored person explore the entrance before venturing in deeper. 

A bounty hunter. My day could not get any worse. 

My breathing was shallow and shaky as I saw them head straight for my position. I muttered a short apology to my mother inwardly and prepared to jump out and make a run for it. Then, right before my foot shifted to jump, Baby’s crib popped open. The scraping noise of the crib startled the intruder, and they quickly raised their blaster to the source of the noise. 

‘Baby,’ I realized.

“No!” I shouted at the bounty hunter. Trying to divert their attention from Baby, I attempted to tackle their legs. I really should have shouted after I tried tackling them. Before I could lay a finger on them, they kicked me straight in the chin and aimed the blaster at my crumpled figure on the ground. Cursing in pain, I looked up to see my laser roll out of my pocket and stop at the feet of the intruder. I went pale. 

“Don’t touch that!” I exclaimed weakly. 

Ignoring my outburst, they reached down to pick it up. If they knew how to use it, I would have died right then and there. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t get the chance to learn. I watched, stunned into silence, as the bounty hunter started coughing and reaching towards their neck. Their struggling body was slightly raised into the air, and the only thing I could do was sit back and watch as their life slowly drained from their many eyes.

It was only after the corpse flopped to the ground and I saw Baby follow suit, that I understood what had happened. 

‘Did  _ Baby _ … Do that?’ 

I stared at Baby’s sleeping form in the crib. ‘What the…?’ My confused and panicked thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an object rolling. ‘The laser!’ I realized with a jolt.

My laser fell out of the bounty hunter’s limp hand and rolled down the ramp. I chased after it and dove, reaching as best as I could, but it just slipped through my fingers.

‘Fuck,’ I barely had time to think, before something heavy smacked onto my back and pinned me down. A metal arm wrapped around my neck from behind, effectively choking me. ...My day did get worse.

“Where is he?” The person strangling me asked. They let up just enough for me to cough out an answer.  _ So _ much worse.

“—Who?” 

“ _ Him _ . Don’t play dumb. The child. What have you done with him?”

They gripped me even tighter. I could feel my consciousness gradually start to slip away and clawed desperately at the metal digging into my throat. 

“C— Cr— ib,” I managed to mouth, before my vision goes black and I feel the pressure being released from my neck and back. 

* * *

And now here we are. Stuck in space with two equally threatening beings, one at least being pleasant to look at and talk to. I glare silently at the man in the pilot’s seat. From the back, all I can see is a part of his shiny metal helmet and shoulder guard over the seat. 

Okay, so… Not a metal arm, I notice. Metal armor. And a lot of it too. How much would the entire set get me? Just thinking about it makes my head hurt. Speaking of hurting… My back and neck ache with every move I make, almost as a reminder of the potential danger I could be in at any moment. He could have at least let me answer properly before choking me to almost-death. Talk about overprotective and manic.

I lean against the wall. After waking up on the floor of the ship’s cockpit and taking a panicked minute to survey my surroundings, I had crawled my way over to rest away from the two figures occupying the front and right seats ahead of me. The wall was my no means comfortable, being made of solid metal, but it was marginally better than sitting directly to the left of those guys. 

The hunter is flying the ship to some place I don’t know. All I really know is that I’m not on Tatooine anymore. The thought makes me feel calmer than I expected. Then I notice how hungry and parched I am, and remember my lost items, and feel the worry start to set in. Where is he taking me? 

“Why didn’t you leave me there?” I blurt out. 

He doesn’t turn, leaving no indication that I ever spoke at all. The room is silent. Baby must have fallen asleep. I’m about to repeat my question, when a deep baritone voice responds. “No time. They were getting closer.” 

They? My mind flashes back to the other bounty hunter I saw before. The dead one. The one killed by Baby. He must have been in a group. “...Ah.” I respond quietly, my fingers slowly reaching up to cover my neck. His voice is nice. Surprisingly warm, in contrast to the cold and detached words. I never noticed. Probably because I was in a chokehold. I wince.

“Where are we going? Are you gonna take me back to Tatooine? Why does your baby kill people? And why are there people after you? Wh—” 

He turns around in his seat and faces me. The sight of his helmet and armor stops me in my tracks.

A Mandalorian. I stare.

I had never seen a Mandalorian before. Only heard of the stories passed around from time to time. How their strange, T-shaped visor allowed them to pinpoint the weaknesses of every kill they made without fail, how their ancestors fought in awful wars against mysterious and god-like beings. How one squadron of them could take down an entire star. Pull it down and crush the light out of it.

“You talk too much,” he says after a pause, and I flinch. 

“...Are you going to kill me?” I look up nervously into the black void of his visor.

As if he’s been asked that question too many times before(and he probably has), the Mandalorian sighs deeply. “We’ll see,” he answers shortly. My heart rate picks up. ‘What do you  _ mean _ , “we’ll see”? That’s not an acceptable answer!’ I screech inwardly and purse my lips. 

He stands up from the seat and walks past me through the sliding doors of the cockpit. Pushing myself up off the ground, I follow him to the ladder leading down to the main area of the ship. Not seeming to pay me any attention, he climbs down into the darkness. That doesn’t look promising. But I need more answers. So I follow him down.

After he turns on the lights, the ship looks the same as it did before I passed out. No thanks to Grumpy over here. I glance over at him, only to find him picking up parts of the ship that had escaped my bag during the incident. His gaze lands on me. Looking anywhere but at him, I turn slightly away in embarrassment. To be fair, from the outside, his ship looked abandoned. But he probably wouldn’t take well to me saying that. I keep my mouth shut.

I look forlornly at my collection of junk being sorted through by the Mandalorian. Granted, all of the stuff he’s going through was taken from his wreck of a ship in the first place, but… It took me so long to gather… In the hot suns… I shut my eyes at the sight of all that hard work being reduced to nothing but ship repairs. Not like the repairs will even do anything, with the state of his ship. If it was so out of shape that it looked like an abandoned wreck? It’s not like those wires are magical. Just expensive. I’m trying so hard not to stare holes into his back. 

On the bright side, I probably won’t live to see a scrap merchant again anyway. Why care about how much everything costs? And would it be too risky to ask for some food before he kills me? I squint my eyes at his back. What’s he gonna do, kill me a second time? Just as I work up the courage to ask, he tosses me two small packages, which I open up gratefully to find food and water. I must’ve looked terrible. He seems to be nicer than I originally thought. 

“Thank you,” I tell him, and he nods. “You can pay me back for that by watching the kid and the ship when I leave.” ...I take it back. He’s just as I thought. I waste no time in devouring the contents of the packages as he heads back up into the cockpit. 

As much as it seems unfair to me, I’m still thankful for the meal. It’s the most I’ve had in days. The water is especially relieving. I try not to eat everything at once, feeling a little sick from the sudden sustenance. Barely tasting any of the food I shove down my throat, I rest on the floor of the ship. It’s only a matter of time before I finish drinking and eating that my body starts to sag under the stress of my body and mind, and I grab my empty bag to form a makeshift pillow, resting my head against it. 

Sleep pulls me under as soon as my head hits the bag, before I realize I didn’t get any of my questions answered. I dream of big, bright eyes and flashing metal.


	2. The Menace

It’s him. He’s the menace. I’ve been stuck in this god-forsaken ship(“The Razor Crest”, he calls it) for about a week now, counting the days with the light that streams through the cockpit’s window. I have no idea what planet we’re on, much less where the Mandalorian is. Or if he’s even coming back. I look down at the small green child in my lap, his tiny hands grasping at the ends of my hair. 

“That’s not for you to eat, Baby Bright Eyes.” Pulling it out of his grip, I hand him his favorite toy, a small metal sphere, to play with instead. 

I don’t know where we are because Grumpy didn’t tell me. Not for a lack of trying on my part. Recalling the moment before he headed out, my eyes roll. 

* * *

  
  


“You don’t need to worry about it. You won’t be doing anything anyway.” He told me, punching buttons to land the ship.

I frowned at him. “Is this about fighting? ‘Cause I may not look like it, but I can put up a fight,” I pointed out, thinking of the brawls I would have with other scavengers for scraps. 

His helmet turned towards me, seemingly looking me over. I felt my shoulders rise under his gaze. He exhaled sharply. 

“Didn’t ‘put up much of a fight’ the last time I checked.”

My shoulders released from their tense position and I gaped at him, at a loss for words. 

...He was cheekier than I thought. Then again, I knew almost nothing about the Mandalorian, save for the fact that he  _ really _ ,  _ aggressively _ cared about Baby… And also had quite bad taste in ships. 

I turned away in a huff and spotted the child wandering around the floor. We made eye contact. 

“Baby, your dad’s a jerk.”

Baby gurgled at me.

“Yeah, okay.” 

* * *

  
  
Which leaves us here. Don’t get me wrong, Baby makes for good company. I can talk continuously at him and he won’t get irritated. Can’t say the same for another particular man. On Tatooine, after my mother passed away, I was constantly alone. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Better silence than having to deal with people trying to pick a fight. 

But it was also stifling. And lonely. I discovered that talking to myself sometimes makes me feel like I’m not truly alone. Like I’m just some character in a story, with the reader accompanying me and making sure I’m safe on my journey through life. Kind of depressing, huh?

Baby seems hungry, as always. It should be about time for his dinner. I open up a new rations packet for him, mumbling about how hard it is to pry the tops off. He seems undisturbed by my frustration. 

I suddenly have an idea. “Hey Baby, can you do that little magic trick you did before?”

He looks up at me blinking, like he’s confused as to why his food hasn’t been delivered to him yet. I try to elaborate in baby talk.

“You, know… Choke? Choking thing? Kill man thing? Except instead of killing another guy, do it to this.” I hold the packet in front of Baby’s uncomprehending face. 

He sits patiently, waiting for me to get my strange thoughts out of the way and just open his food for him. We have a short staring contest, him with his big, brown eyes, and me, with my intense stare.

I lose. 

Mildly disappointed but not surprised, I end up using my teeth to rip a hole through the packet before pouring it into a bowl for Baby to get at. 

As I watch over him happily sipping up his meal, I think about how to spend my day. I’ve already tried cleaning the ship. Virtually all surfaces in the ship gleam from how much time I’ve spent scrubbing each and every one. 

I’m not a mechanic, but I’ve spent enough time around junk and broken things to know how simple machines work. It was hard work in the beginning, trying to fix small spots around the inside of the ship. I chalk that up to too much time as a collector and not enough time as a creator. But I fixed the pieces I could wrap my head around. Some wires soldered here, maybe some screws tightened there. There’s so much wrong with the ship that I get the feeling that by the time I attempt to fix everything, I will have become a master craftsman. Who knows? With how long I’ve been here already, I wouldn’t bet against it. 

My mind eventually drifts back, as it seems to often now, to the Mandalorian. As much as I’d like to deny it, his and Baby’s unexpected presence in my life has caused the most excitement I’ve had in many years. 

At first, it was scary. I think of how it felt to see my eyesight fading into black, the sheer panic and nauseating feeling that I would die right there on the floor of his ship, air to my lungs cut off. It’s been almost a month since the incident, but remembering how I felt back then still sends shivers down my spine. Not to mention his large array of weaponry, hidden behind a metal sliding panel in the wall. It still is scary to me, in a way. 

But it’s not nearly as bad as before. Especially since through my short attempts at conversation with the Mandalorian, I’ve found that he’s not such a crazy killer like I first believed him to be. Still wildly dangerous. But controlled. Nothing really sets him off, and I know my incessant babble is irritating, particularly for someone so set in silence as he is. Sometimes,  _ he’s _ even a little annoying, on the rare occasion that he speaks first, only to point out my obvious(to him, at least) character flaws. I swear he’s poking fun at me in his own, twisted and quiet way. 

I don’t miss that part of him. 

...I don’t miss his presence at all, actually.

And I most definitely do not miss him when I hear random scuffs against the ship’s walls coming from the outside. Nope.

I just miss his blasters. Oh, what I would do to get my laser back.

The Mandalorian has taken it and put it somewhere I can’t find. It was one thing to watch him take apart my collection of scrap metal. A whole other thing to see my laser in his hand, after fully believing it fell out of the ship during the scuffle. He still doesn’t trust me, I guess. That’s a reasonable conclusion to come to, especially given the harsh nature of his profession. Rule number one of bounty hunting: don’t give the loud girl you strangled a dangerous weapon. Makes sense.

While I have my head in the stars, my tiny green friend has already finished his food and started to waddle about on his short, albeit quick, legs. 

My eyes follow Baby around the floor of the ship as I wonder about his strange powers. I still have no idea why his small, three-pronged hands can perform miracles and choke bad guys from afar, but I’ve warmed up to the idea of it over the course of my time on the Razor Crest. It seems to only work in times of great distress or chaos. I’ve been trying to get Baby to help me with chores around the ship, but he just stares at me like  _ I’m _ the green one. The language barrier is a serious problem. We’re working on it.

In addition to the magical power development attempts(by me mostly), I have also been trying to teach Baby how to speak. He’s got the “make noise” part down pat, but in terms of forming actual words? His little teeth can’t seem to manage it. Yet. I’m confident I can get the little bean to say one word by the time his father comes back. If he comes back at all. I frown.

I don’t doubt that Bright Eyes can understand what I’m saying. It’s definitely a rough understanding, like the time he tried handing me his toy instead of a screwdriver I needed. But he knows enough to tell when I’m feeling down or angry. 

How could I stay in a bad mood when his adorable round eyes are looking up at me? He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Coming from a girl born and raised on Tatooine, that doesn’t say much, but you would say the same if you could see him.

As much as I love talking to Baby and fawning over his pretty eyes, I’m also bored out of my mind. He’s still wandering around, now fidgeting with random controls that open and close the front panel of Grumpy’s assortment of weapons. Maybe not such a great idea. 

Just as I walk over to Baby and scoop him in my arms, there’s a loud clanging noise against the side of the ship, strong enough that it resonates through the floor under my feet. There have been other noises before coming from the outside, but never this loud. Or this shaky.

I exchange nervous glances with Baby.

“Rule one. Don’t leave the ship,” I faintly recall Grumpy saying. “No exceptions,” he said.

The noise grows louder. There’s one big thump against the ship, followed by two smaller hits. 

My feet cautiously tip-toe towards the entrance of the Razor Crest. I can feel my heart racing. 

Another big hit. The hit lands with a ‘thunk’, and slides down the ship. What the hell is going on out there? My curiosity grows with my fear. That damned curiosity again.

“Rule two. Don’t. Leave the ship.” The memory is clearer now. I remember just barely stopping myself from rolling my eyes at such a serious list. The repetition of the rule seems more fair, now. But the more I think about Grumpy’s rules, the more I find myself wanting to break them. I wonder what it would look like out there. A foreign, mysterious land. Somewhere I’ve never been. What will I find?

A series of five hits. Not against the ship this time, but close enough to hear through the thick metal walls. Are those blaster shots?

“...And rule three. Keep the kid safe.” I stop just short of the entrance, hand paused over the controls to let the ship’s ramp down. That’s a rule I can’t compromise on. I look down at the big-eared child nestled in my left arm. He looks back up at me, waiting. 

I go to put him down, but his babble only grows louder as my arm gets closer to the floor. Hmmm. 

The crashes are also getting louder. Would it even be safe for Baby if he’s alone in here? What if he gets into trouble? Or worse, what if the trouble finds him? Reasoning against my better judgement, I eventually decide to take him with me. Besides, Grumpy never said I couldn’t take Baby out of the ship, right?

The emotions propelling me to move are equal parts trepidation and excitement. I’ve had the same daily routine, in the same place, with nearly the same people, all my life. Except for now. This is my first venture into the galaxy outside Tatooine. It would practically be a sin to deprive myself of the experience. Plus, I’ve been stuck inside this piece of junk for way too long now. Even feeling the blazing hot suns of Tatooine is better than the cold nothingness I feel trapped in here. I never thought I would miss that heat.

I press randomly at the controls of the ramp. After multiple attempts, the ramp starts lowering, and my eyes go wide at what I see.

It’s dark. And bright. Somehow at the same time. Nothing like Tatooine.

The night sky has settled, cool-toned colors seeping into the palette of my perspective. I can’t see many stars, but what I do see almost makes up for it. In front of me, sparkling and shining and as far as my eyes can see, are dazzling lights, pigments ranging through the whole spectrum of the rainbow. It’s louder than I expected. People riding speeders zip through the air around me. I can feel my knees go weak. The Crest is secure on a round landing pad, I notice. 

There are structures so tall, I’m not even sure if they count as buildings anymore. They fill the space around the landing area, each and every one glowing with pretty, twinkling stars of their own. Peering closer at the stars, I can see that the flashy lights aren’t so much as man-made stars, but rather different shapes of glass that let out light from the inside of the structures. Windows. How can windows be that beautiful? Baby looks almost as awestruck as I feel. His eyes are impossibly brighter, vivid colors reflected in his large pupils. 

For the first time in my life, I feel a powerful and exhilarating urge. A want. No, a need. To explore the galaxy, to see all the different planets in all their unique glory and experience each of the distinct, rich cultures they have to offer. To experience life. As it could be. As it should be. 

I stare so hard and long at my surroundings, imprinting the sensation of this specific world into my brain, that I almost forget why I’ve come out of the ship in the first place. The banging noises are quieter out here, with so many other sounds competing for my attention and drowning them out.

Snapping out of my reverie, I tentatively make my way towards the source of the repetitive sound.

As I near the side of the ship, the noises become clearer and more distinct to my ears. I can hear the individual shots of each blaster mixing with the groans of wounded people. A fight broke out next to our ship? My blood runs cold. What if the Mandalorian is injured? 

Before I can stop myself and think it through, I rush to round the edge of the ship and find myself face to face with a stranger.  _ That’s not Grumpy _ . I can tell by the nasty sneer they give me. Their arm reaches out in what feels to me like slow motion.  _ Not this again _ . My body instinctively moves to hide Baby from their reach. As it turns out, they weren't reaching for Baby. They were reaching for me.

An ear-splitting scream pierces the air and makes my head spin, before I realize with a start that it is my own scream that I am hearing, and instead of the noise being the cause of my spinning head, it’s the hand yanking at my hair.

I vaguely hear Baby start to cry out from within my arms, but can’t pay attention to him for long.

My scalp burns. I wrench my eyes open, not even understanding how I had them shut tight before. I can feel stinging tears start to well up around the corners of my eyes, thin rivets of liquid dripping down my cheeks from the build up. 

It’s all over before I know it. Right as I blink through my tears to fight back against the stranger, to do  _ anything  _ to relieve the fierce pain shooting through my temple, he appears.

I barely even see him at first. All I see is the stranger, leering down at me, hands wrapped in my hair, pulling me towards them, before a glimmer of metal cuts clean through their neck. 

Their hands don’t quite release from my hair as the body collapses, and my vision tilts dangerously towards the edge of the platform. I haven’t even processed their death as I fall.

It feels like I fall for a very long time. 

In reality, it was probably less than a second until  _ he _ had me there, in his arms.

I can’t tell if I’m blinking or not when I stare into his helmet. It takes a while for my mind to catch up. Is that me hiccupping? His figure is dark against the backdrop of lights. The silhouette of his armor is so pretty, funnily enough, outlined by the reflection of starry windows. 

I feel my senses rush back into me. Ironically enough, I owe him my life. My eyes are dry now. Too dry. Rapidly blinking up at him, I try to explain myself. He’s watching me flounder, silent.

No words come out. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, much less what he expected me to say. His head tilts back up to do a quick check on our remaining surroundings and all but drags me back into the ship. I don’t fight him. I can’t. How could I?

  
  


* * *

  
  


Baby is fast asleep in the metal crib. While the Mandalorian is pressing the necessary buttons to launch us into space, I take the time to calm down. It’s much easier to do so when I look at him, so my eyes involuntarily drift over to the pilot’s seat to the front-right of mine where he sits. From the way his figure hunches over and leans into the back of the seat, he looks exhausted. I make an attempt to talk to him, to no avail. The silence hurts louder than any insult he could have thrown at me. 

“I gave you  _ three _ rules, and you managed to break  _ all three  _ of them,” he finally bites out.

To be fair, two of them were the same thing. And I didn’t really break the last rule. I don’t say that out loud. He seems more on edge. 

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks slightly as I apologize. I mean it. I’m not sure what I expected from leaving to explore the sound, but I had definitely learned my lesson a hundred times over. 

“You—the kid could have gotten hurt.” I wince at the minute shift in his words.

“Do you get what  _ rules _ are? You  _ promised _ .” My eyes raise to look up at him. His head is facing me. I shrink back into the cushion of the seat.

There’s another strained silence that passes. 

“...Where I come from, promises are always kept.” I feel his gaze bore into me. “We  _ trust _ each other. To break that trust is to break the code. Only  _ traitors  _ break the code.”

...I understand now. The regret that twists my stomach is unbearable. Tired of pathetically looking away, my eyes steadily meet the direction of his hard stare.

“I won’t let you down again,” I swear to him, tired but as sincere as I can be. “And that’s a promise I will never break.” 

His body is unmoving.

Then he nods, once. And it is over.


End file.
